Happy Robbie Burns Day
- Thread starter Neesy
- Start date
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Och! Hoot mon! 'Though these green foreign trees may be, they are not the hills of home'.
Would you believe the best Robbie Burns dinner we went to was held at The Irish Society of Manitoba?
The food was so delicious and the entertainment was the best!
Dana - you should check that out
Hello hope you all enjoyed a good day
Hi Hill lover35 - I bought some shortbread cookies and British chocolate fingers to share at work and put up a sign
Otherwise it was just a quiet regular day
Hi Neesy! My grandfather's name is Robert Burns and his parents were from Scotland - there's probably millions of Robert Burnses, though. Come to think of it, I have an uncle and a cousin named Robert Burns, too.
Anyhow - mens in kilts make me swoon.
Anyhow - mens in kilts make me swoon.
Dana - you should check that out
Hi Hill lover35 - I bought some shortbread cookies and British chocolate fingers to share at work and put up a sign
Otherwise it was just a quiet regular day
Sounds like so much fun
I would like Haggis because I like white pudding and mealy pud. Scotty wasn't beamed over from Scotland though. He was beamed up from Canada. A canadian soldier who became an actor.
The Robert Burns I meant (famous Scottish poet) was the one who wrote "Auld Lang Syne"
The History and Words of Auld Lang Syne — The Official Gateway to Scotland
You probably already knew that (being smart as well as cute!)
We were in the area of Robert Burn's home town (or place of birth - something like that
- anyway it was called "Ayr" and we spent our one day, one night honeymoon there before having to travel back to the Isle of Arran to take care of Andy's restaurant)
Nah - not really (but thanks for saying so)
People at my work just like free stuff if it is put out for all to take
(who doesn't, right?)
Since today is Friday I'm bringing in two dozen peanut butter cookiesTGIF!
While I was in Hong Kong, the Annual Scotch Tasting Party gathered. The reason I'm posting this here is that we always time it to occur around Robert Burns' birthday. You know, the Scotch thing.
Anyway. Twenty-five years ago, my good friend John invited some like-minded soccer players to a specialized single-malt Scotch-tasting party. It was:
John
me
Jerry
Chuck
Jim
We were all assigned a region of Scotland and to bring a Scotch from that region. I stil remember that I brought a Dalmore. John brought a Laphroig and had a charming tale of how it came to him.
Over the course of years, we added some others: Pat, Dennis, Ben.
The Gathering evolved as well. We brought food. We brought poems, brain teasers, other literary things. Over 25 years, there's simply too much to talk about, like the bagpipe player or the limo.
One of my favorite memories is of us all free-associating "group" names for a given genre. If a group of crows is a murder, what is a group of lawyers? A conspiracy. And so on.
During our 25 years, longer than some marriages, we have seen among us divorces, remarriages, births, births of grandchildren, changes in career.
And just this last year, we also tragically had a Death. Jim, the nicest guy among us, heroically fighting a battle with leukemia, taking it to unheard levels, fighting against the ravages of the disease and the cures to see his kids graduate from high school, get married, play with his grandchildren, before finally succumbing to the merciless advancements of the disease/cure process.
Now to the present. Last week, I was in Hong Kong, making good money, during this last one. Yes, out of all the last 24 years, I finally missed the 25th. I won't lie. It was terrible, particularly because it was the first one without Jim. But sometimes life intervenes. I Skyped with the group while they drank and I rubbed my eyes at the international airport. Thank you, technology.
So from Pat's toast, which I don't remember too well, but the guts of it were:
We lift our glass
To those here
To those who are distant
To those who are no longer with us
We are Friends, bonded in camaraderie, in our interests, in our life stations, and in the ties of friendship that can never be revoked.
Slainte, my friends. A toast to your name, Mr. Burns. See you all next year.
Anyway. Twenty-five years ago, my good friend John invited some like-minded soccer players to a specialized single-malt Scotch-tasting party. It was:
John
me
Jerry
Chuck
Jim
We were all assigned a region of Scotland and to bring a Scotch from that region. I stil remember that I brought a Dalmore. John brought a Laphroig and had a charming tale of how it came to him.
Over the course of years, we added some others: Pat, Dennis, Ben.
The Gathering evolved as well. We brought food. We brought poems, brain teasers, other literary things. Over 25 years, there's simply too much to talk about, like the bagpipe player or the limo.
One of my favorite memories is of us all free-associating "group" names for a given genre. If a group of crows is a murder, what is a group of lawyers? A conspiracy. And so on.
During our 25 years, longer than some marriages, we have seen among us divorces, remarriages, births, births of grandchildren, changes in career.
And just this last year, we also tragically had a Death. Jim, the nicest guy among us, heroically fighting a battle with leukemia, taking it to unheard levels, fighting against the ravages of the disease and the cures to see his kids graduate from high school, get married, play with his grandchildren, before finally succumbing to the merciless advancements of the disease/cure process.
Now to the present. Last week, I was in Hong Kong, making good money, during this last one. Yes, out of all the last 24 years, I finally missed the 25th. I won't lie. It was terrible, particularly because it was the first one without Jim. But sometimes life intervenes. I Skyped with the group while they drank and I rubbed my eyes at the international airport. Thank you, technology.
So from Pat's toast, which I don't remember too well, but the guts of it were:
We lift our glass
To those here
To those who are distant
To those who are no longer with us
We are Friends, bonded in camaraderie, in our interests, in our life stations, and in the ties of friendship that can never be revoked.
Slainte, my friends. A toast to your name, Mr. Burns. See you all next year.
My bottle of Jura Tastival scotch whiskey has an interesting warning label...
WARNING: The consumption of scotch may leave you wondering what the hell happened to your bra and panties.
WARNING: The consumption of scotch may leave you wondering what the hell happened to your bra and panties.
I don't remember seeing you taking pictures at my birthday party... Dang scotch.